First let me say in this brief introduction,
That I’m listening to a BBC production,
Of the Canterbury Tales, by Chaucer, Geoffrey,
Who wrote in Middle English, which is all Greek to me.
This poem in High School, I surely did dread,
Because I couldn’t understand a word that he said.
But now this story gives me great inspiration,
Thanks to Burton Raffel and his fine translation.
Now I can follow this ancient old song,
And understand why it’s lasted so long
I’m enjoying the story and so I will show it,
By writing this blog in the way of a poet.
The Harness Racing Fan’s Story
Last week, three friends they had a notion,
To visit the upstate town of Goshen.
A place that bears a biblical name,
And is home to the Harness Hall of Fame.
The trip was my idea, as I am a big fan,
Brother X and friend John went along with the plan.
It was my birthday, which is why they agreed,
They’d rather watch Yankees than any old steed.
So we packed up the car, and were on our way soon.
We reached the museum a little past noon.
On the walls I saw pictures of drivers so mighty,
They only recognized a guy they called Whitey.
We toured every exhibit and every space,
And inside of cutouts our heads we did place.
Our favorite spot was a place where we could act,
Like we were driving a Trotter on the main track.
Johnny went first and just like he oughta,
He took to racing like a duck takes to water.
I mentioned Ducks, because on the previous night,
We saw The Long Island Ducks really put up a fight.
They beat my poor Stormers on a night filled with rain,
But it was still nice to see some old friends again.
Linda and Jimmy from the old Sutter crowd,
Were cheering for Ducks and rooting quite loud.
Brother X and Christine, the home team were backing.
And nephew DJ and wife Stacy were all busy quacking.
Now back to my story about our Goshen trip.
It was my turn in the sulky but with my bum hip
I needed some help to climb in with my pain.
If truth be told, I needed a crane.
Then, finally, I got it right,
But to get me out, it took all night.
I didn’t care; I was having my fun,
And in the picture, it looks like I won.
At the end of the day, we were ready to eat,
My friend Sally told me a place that couldn’t be beat.
So, we took her advice, and it couldn’t be finer,
We all enjoyed the food at the Goshen Diner.
Before we left I took a picture of the track,
And we agreed that someday we’d all go back.
But there is one sad note about this town.
Two days later this old barn burned down.
But when they saw the flames and smoke,
This sleepy little town really awoke.
The people came from everywhere
To save the horses that were there.
An historic barn is now gone,
But, thankfully, the horses all live on,
Thanks to the people with courage true.
Oh, Land of Goshen, how I love you.
Peace & Love, and all of the above,
6 thoughts on “The Trotterbury Tale”
Looks like you all had a blast😎
Barbara, Yes we did. Especially me!!
Love your new style, you kinda went wild, if I had to bet, it’s your best blog yet!
I love all the rest, but you’re simply the best, to comment this time, with your own little rhyme. Thanks. Earl
You missed your calling, should have been a poet.
Great story and great poetry writing!